To Be Young Again Again
by LizzieCB13
Summary: Sequel to "A Very Small Issue" Years after their first encounter, Idunn returns to ask the boys for help. She brings a long with her a couple of problems for the Winchester brothers, but when has anything been easy for them. De-aged Dean story.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

An eerie silence filled every crevice of the bunker; the only sound that had been keeping the dormant silence at bay- Dean's records playing on repeat- had ceased when Dean had reluctantly passed out on his bed. Kevin had also asleep a couple hours earlier- well it was more of an exhaustion fuelled coma which both Winchesters' agreed the kid needed- leaving Sam as the only waking soul besides Crowley, who didn't technically have a soul. Sam wasn't sure if Crowley did sleep at all, as long as those chains kept him where he was, Sam couldn't really care at this moment.

They had gotten nowhere with their interrogation of the demon and it was getting more than a little frustrating; Sam was beginning to question whether his brother's plan would work at all. Honestly, when Sam first learnt that Dean hadn't killed Crowley the moment he had the opportunity, Sam was more than surprised if not a little impressed. They both knew that Crowley was going to crack, it was just finding the easiest and fastest method of getting the names out of him. The less time that demon was in the bunker, the better. Kevin certainly wasn't happy about their new room mate but if it led to all demons on earth being iced, Kevin would just have to deal with it for a while. He knew it was simply a means to a much more significant end.

In hopes to clear his head, Sam had decided to finish some remaining research that he desperately wanted out of the way; perhaps having a clear head would actually result in him having a half descent night sleep for once. After all the weird things that had been occurring lately, everyone seriously needed a break. Unluckily, hunting didn't exactly come with vacation time so they were all stuck with an overwhelming amount of work that lay ahead of them.

With a heavy hand Sam flipped to the next page of the thick, ancient book. He blinked rapidly a couple of times in an attempt to make sense of the text. The words continued to be blurred into a black smudge on the yellowing page. Determined not to admit defeat, Sam kneaded his eyes with the palm of his hands. The darkness that followed lured Sam's brain to shut down for the night but before he could give in to the embracing temptation that was sleep, a loud, single knock at the bunkers door shocked his brain awake.

Now that his eyes were partially refreshed, Sam was able to check the time on his watch- with only limited struggle. It was nearly half three in the morning. He couldn't think of many people who would visit at this time, and that list was then notably narrowed by the small number of people who knew where the bunker was or even that it was there new residence. Abandoning the page he had been stuck on for the past ten minutes, he pushed himself away from the table and stood up. After placing his gun into the waistband of his jeans, Sam slowly made his way up the stairs that led to the door.

Heavy footsteps of his own staggering legs echoed within the room. Sam had to grip onto the railing to avoid falling down the stairs, pausing for a moment to regain his composure. The sight of his pale knuckles forced him to continue a little faster. He was fine.

As soon as he pulled open the door he was greeted with the weight of a blonde girl who was even more unsteady on her feet than he was. Tilting her head up with a hand on her chin, Sam was able to see the vacant look in her drooping eyes. He released his grip on her head resulting in it falling limply to the side.

_What the hell? _Sam couldn't quite process everything that was happening. With the tiredness and shock, Sam felt like he could fall apart right there. He wanted to deny what he was seeing, but he couldn't refuse that the blonde hair and blue eyes looked awfully familiar. A glimmer of the pendent that dangled from her neck caught his eye, convincing him that it truly was the estranged goddess.

"Idunn, can you hear me?" Sam asked as he repositioned her so he was supporting her dead weight- which was pretty much her whole body. Luckily she was pretty light so he only needed one arm to keep her from completely collapsing. He used his other hand to shut the door, banishing the cold chill of the night that seeped in. "Come on, Idunn. Talk to me."

He received no real reply, only an unintelligible gurgle followed by slow and painful manic giggling. Gently, Sam wrapped an arm around Idunn's waist, supporting both their weights as he descended the stairs. Sam swallowed thickly when he felt the familiar warm stickiness coat his fingers. He changed the position of his hand, hoping to distance his mind from that thought. He had to concentrate on getting the goddess settled on a chair first, then he'd worry about the wound.

The moment he'd placed her in the least uncomfortable chair in their proximity Sam ran to find the first aid kit. He returned to find her limp in the chair, her head lolling against the headrest and her mouth slightly open. More nonsense that Sam doubted was English escaped her mouth. Strands of her blonde curly hair stuck to her forehead and face, sweat acting as a glue that preserved it in that mad style.

She seemed so small slumped in the chair. She looked as though she had not aged a single day since their last encounter four years ago. In fact her features seemed younger and if it weren't for the blood-soaked t-shirt she wore, she would have fitted in easily amongst a group of high school students.

Sam attentively separated the stained blue fabric from the wound. He lifted the t-shirt to reveal the source where blood continued to leak from: a rather large stab wound that penetrated deep into her side, just under her rib cage. Fortunately, it appeared none of her vital organs had been damaged; all together, the wound didn't seem too serious and the only real risk was possible infection. Quickly, and with great ease, Sam cleaned the wound and stitched it up. Luckily, the combination of Sam's experience of dealing with wounds and Idunn's lack of consciousness, the wound was dealt with in less than fifteen minutes.

Sam practically forced a couple of strong pain killers and a glass of water down Idunn's throat; once again he'd learnt from experience that the pain killers would benefit the injured goddess during the night.

Until he was certain Idunn was going to be okay, Sam remained in the chair beside her. Eventually her mindless mumbling came to an end, transitioning to a deep, shaky breaths and quiet, infrequent snores. He lifted the slumbering goddess into his arms and carried her to one of the many vacant rooms that occupied the bunker. Once he'd found a suitable room, he laid her on a bed above the sheets. Sam studied her a moment longer, wondering what were the events that had led her to their doorstep. Why was Idunn her? How did she know where here was? And most importantly, who, or what, had done this to her?

Sam had seen what she was capable of. Hell, Dean had spent a week as a four year old the last time she used her powers. Only something extremely powerful could've done this, and if it did, why not finish the job?

A lot of questions lingered in Sam's mind. Questions that made the idea of sleep even more absurd than it had done 3 hours ago when Dean had insisted he should go to bed. Whatever they were getting themselves involved in- if this counted as _getting involved in, _which Sam decided it did even if it was against their will- was god worthy and exceedingly powerful.

Sam felt a heavy weight sink to the pit of his stomach as he thought about their previous encounter with the now catatonic god. It was only after he'd checked on his brother- who was still asleep in his room, exactly how he was supposed to be- was Sam able to succumb to the claws of exhaustion and be pulled down into the pit of unconsciousness.

* * *

AN: I've been meaning to write a sequel for quite some time but haven't had any time to do so (technically I still don't but hey-ho). It took me so long because I've been trying to come up with a storyline that would work and hopefully this one will, although I'm still not too sure. I hope you enjoy this one since I was shocked by the feedback I received on the previous story. I'm still working out some plot points but have roughly placed this after season 9 episode 2. There was a lot that I wanted to do in this story but it all depended on different timings, damn continuity!

I haven't got a beta so all mistakes are my own.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Sorry it's a little short and there's no de-aged dean yet, however it's only the opening and I promise there is more to come. As always reviews are always welcome and if you have any suggestions for the story or something you'd like to see that you thought was missing from the previous one. (PS If you haven't read the first one, I suggest you do before reading this one).

Until next time, dear readers.x


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sam had learnt long ago that the pit of unconsciousness was more of a shallow plunge that generally resulted in chronic drowsiness, but lately things had been different. He felt more refreshed that morning after the uneasy 2 hours sleep he'd had than the rare occasions where he actually slept through the entire night- and he hadn't even had his morning coffee yet. He carelessly threw on a clean outfit and hurriedly made his bed before exiting his room. Diverting from his usual routes that either lead straight to the kitchen or library, Sam headed to the room that an injured, centuries old goddess was currently inhabiting.

The previous night was all a bit of a blur to Sam- much like the pages of the book that he'd failed to finish that still lay open on the table. He remembered going through the motions but it had felt more like an outsider's perspective, as if he was watching all of it as a bystander. It was all very distant, like he wasn't really there.

Sam cautiously opened the bedroom door, slipping inside soundlessly just in case Idunn was still asleep. God knows she needed the rest. Through the darkness he could make out a frail body on the bed that was curled in on itself. Sam could see the flinch than rattled Idunn's body when the door closed behind him, the noise a little louder than he had anticipated. His eyes soon readjusted to the dim lighting of the room and he was able to see the grimace on the god's face. Her face contorted in agony as she shifted herself up on the bed, a sigh of pain escaping her lips as her back moulded against the back wall.

"Hey." She wiped a hand over her face, masking all signs of deep-rooted exhaustion with a pitiful attempt at a smile. Sam returned the smile and moved from his spot at the door where he had yet to move from.

"You okay?" Sam asked as he perched on the edge of the bed. The shift of weight caused Idunn to grip her side as a way to pacify the flare of pain, her features crinkling as she did so. Sam changed position slightly, hoping to ease Idunn's discomfort but only seemed to make it worse.

"M'fine. I need a shower though, and some new clothes." She looked down at her blue t-shirt which was irredeemably damaged. "Did you really need to cut through this?" She tugged at her the dried blood stain, sparking another wince as the material separated from her skin. "It was one of my favourites." Sam smiled but did not answer. He wanted answers of his own but wasn't sure how to go about getting them. A tense silence bounced round the room like a bird trying to escape its cage. "Sorry for turning up here." Idunn said after a moment. "Especially in the middle of the night, I mean that must've been..."

"What happened?" Sam cut in, his patience becoming terse.

"Yeah, thought you might ask. I should've started with that in retrospect." She looked away quickly, still fiddling with her blood stained shirt. "You remember how Loki killed my sister, right? Oh, thanks by the way. For letting me know that Loki wasn't actually Loki but an archangel; that was a nice surprise." Sam shrugged apologetically. "Well, my mother wasn't too happy about that and the whole affair landed me back on her radar. She sent some guys to kill me and steal my spells. There was a big fight, I got stabbed, landed a few blows myself though. Anyway, I got away- luckily- and then came here." She cleared her face of the unruly hair that had fallen out of alignment with one hand while her other one continued to clasp her wound. "I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to go."

Sam shook his head to dismiss her comment. "It's fine, you can always come to us if you need help. It's just, how did you know where we were? We haven't heard anything from you in years and we haven't exactly been here long."

"Sorry about that too: the whole disappearing thing. It was a dick move on my part. But I kind of had to go underground for a while."

"Idunn stop apologising, okay? Just, how did you find us?"

Idunn looked down guiltily.

"What?" Sam probed.

Idunn fiddled with her t- shirt for another moment, looking round the room before her eyes finally settled on Sam. She took a deep breath before the words began tumbling out of her mouth at a fast pace. "Well, a little while after I reversed the spell that_ insane_ girl put on Dean I realised that not all the magic had been expelled. I was going to find you guys and try to fix it but you were always so busy and just couldn't catch a break; I didn't want to make it any worse for the both of you. It wasn't too serious anyway, barely noticeable, just enough to preserve a_ very_ mild psychic connection which meant I could sense him." She interlocked her fingers as if that would illustrate it. "Plus enough for him to be affected by my mother's new curse." Her voice was so rushed and quiet, spoken primarily to only her shoulder, Sam could barely make out what was said. But he did.

"What curse?" Sam's shoulders straightened, his mind becoming more alert.

"That's what I was getting to, the main reason why I'm here." Her fingers moved as a demonstration of the order of her actions. "You see, when you first came to me for help, my sister hunted me down- and subsequently hunted you and Dean down- with the hopes of renewing my families youth by using my powers and the golden apples. Despite that astronomical failure, my mother did not give up on her quest of rejuvenation. However, she did change tactics. She realised that I was the only one that could harness the power of the golden apples- and there was absolutely no way in hell that I was helping her- so she found a new method. By renewing the spells that I have already cast in the past, she would be young again." She paused, staring at Sam to ensure that he was keeping up.

"Okay. What's that got to do with Dean?" Sam had a creeping suspicion of what Idunn was going to say, but he continued to cling onto the hope that her summary would lead in a different direction.

Idunn nodded and continued her explanation. "Although my mother is skilled in the art of ancient Norse science and magic, she's yet to master the ageing spells- mainly because I ditched before she could finish learning everything from me." Sam nodded, gesturing for Idunn to speed up her story. "Right, well the spell that she cast not only reinstates the spell that I cast on my family but all ageing spells I've ever used, including the one on Dean."

Sam's head shot towards the door, not even waiting for Idunn to finish. He stood quickly and strode toward the exit.

"Sam, I'm sorry. I swear I tried everything to stop them but..."

"It's not your fault." He didn't pause or loo back at the god as he said this. Idunn nodded once to show her acceptance, urging herself to keep an almost passive expression. She knew the gesture was wasted on Sam, he was almost completely oblivious to her now; he only had one thing on his mind. He knew what he said to her was true but there was still part of him that blamed Idunn, predominantly because he _needed_ someone, anyone, to blame.

He opened the door, allowing light to flood into the dark room. Idunn squinted at the sudden change in lighting. She winced as she attempted to stand in order to follow him. "Sam," She pleaded after him, her voice laden with pain and exhaustion. "Damnit Sam, slow down a little." With each hobbled step she took she released a muffled whimper of pain.

"Sam, what's going on?" Kevin's head poked round the corner, his face showing an expression of confusion at the sight of the mysterious, blood stained girl he had never seen.

"Not now, Kevin." Sam said, still not looking back or pausing to explain. Idunn just flashed a quick smile before she continued to limp along, a little faster now so she could keep up with Sam's large strides. Kevin stood still for a moment, questioning whether to follow the pair or not. He released an exasperated exhale and returned to his seat in the library, deciding that the Winchesters' problems and _"friends"_ were just too difficult to deal with first thing in the morning.

Sam came to a halt outside his brother's closed bedroom door. He paused for a moment, his hand clasped tightly around the door handle. _This cannot be happening, not again_. The door creaked open ever so slightly.

The scene he had seen only a few hours previously had now changed quite drastically. The body that had taken up the majority of the bed now only covered a small fraction. Although the figure was covered by an assortment of blankets, he knew that it was the blond, freckle spattered toddler he had thought he'd been rid of 5 years ago. Even his brother's breathing sounded different than it usually did. The slight movements of the blanket were perfectly synchronized with the small, peaceful breaths that filled the dark room.

Sam struggled to maintain stable breathing as he turned his back to the room so all he could see was the bright corridor again. Learning from his earlier mistake, he closed the door with as much care as he could muster, even bats would've had to strain in order to hear it.

He knew it was selfish of him to wish so profoundly that this wasn't happening, but he could not deal with his brother as a child for a third time in his lifetime. The first time had been bad enough and Sam can barely remember that, and the second time was a complete and utter nightmare. He could only imagine what could possibly go wrong this time. Trouble just seemed to bombard them. His brother- at all ages, though especially as a child- just seemed to be a large beacon that attracted trouble and negative attention, not to mention the fact that they both nearly lost their minds the previous time. He just could not deal with it again, especially not now, not when they were in the middle of battling demons and angels alike. He needed his big brother.

His eyes stung from being shut so tightly. Idunn's voice pierced through the engulfing darkness like a dagger through silk, gracefully yet at the same time almost regrettably. "I can fix this, I promise you that. I can fix all of it, change Dean back. I will never bother you guys again in the future; I only came here now because I'm desperate. Everything will go back to how it's supposed to be, I just need to get my books back."

Sam opened his eyes to find that she had caught up and now stood directly in front of him. The light that he had been blocking out stung his eyes with a vengeance, Idunn's face was somewhat blurry but he could see the clear earnest written all over it.

"Fine, go then. Find your books." Sam's voice was hushed, desperate not to wake his brother. He wanted to postpone Dean discovering what had happened for as long as imaginably possible; the last time his brother found out he had been turned into a kid hadn't been an experience Sam ever wanted to relive for the remainder of his life.

"Yeah, you see, I may need a little help with that." Sam jutted his head forward to look at her more closely. She raised the hand that wasn't clenching her side, holding her thumb and index finger less than an inch apart. Her face scrunched up again, however this time it was not due to pain. "Just a little bit."

* * *

AN: Thank you for all the positive feedback from the last chapter. I'm glad you all liked it. I'm sorry it's taking a little while for the story to actually, you know, begin but I'm just trying to set it up. I didn't want it to seem too forced or unlikely, I hope that this seem realistic. Took a little time to find a reason for Dean to be turned into a kid again. Anyway, the story's basically all set up now and there will definitely be little Dean in the next chapter.

As always, your responses are more than welcome. Until next timeX


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The sudden scraping of the closing door followed by the sound of muffled voices coming from just beyond it roused Dean from his peaceful sleep. But it did not matter how many times he urged himself to investigate the source of the commotion, his body refused to comply with his mind's instructions regardless, preventing him from discovering who the whispered arguing belonged to.

Impossibly heavy eyelids made it incredibly difficult to open his eyes. And even when he did manage to open them, what little lighting the room had caused his head to throb, as if his brain was clawing at the inside of his skull until it were exposed.

The pain was immense. Almost overwhelming, and that was saying something coming from Dean; in the past he'd shrugged off bullet wounds like they were paper cuts, but this, there had only been one other time he'd felt this bad. And that experience had been an utterly unbearable ordeal. He was unsure why he felt so rotten, he didn't remember drinking all that much last night, in fact he didn't remember much of last night or the past couple of days. All his memories blending together to form a concoction of uncertainty and confusion.

Deciding that he didn't need eyesight to navigate around his own bedroom, Dean flung his right arm out, aiming for where a night stand that was positioned beside the bed. But rather than the wood surface he'd reached for, all he could feel was the soft texture of blankets that he lay on top of.

He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. But once again, instead of the expected collision of feet and floor, his legs dangled in the air, unnaturally short. It felt like there was a nightclub located inside his head, one of those nightclubs where there was strobe lighting and the constant thumping of music that, to Dean, sounded like a brick had been thrown into a blender. He raised his hand to rub at his aching head, the skin of his forehead felt peculiarly smooth under his fingers; the wrinkles that had come with age where no longer there. His fingers moved to the corners of his eyes where he expected to find developing crows feet, but the skin surrounding his eyes was as silky soft as the rest of his face. Even his fingers were not as calloused as they commonly were.

Despite his mind being fuzzy, the terrifying realisation did not take long before it snuck up on Dean like a b-list horror movie villain.

He launched himself off the bed, hitting the floor with an irritatingly light thud. Although his eyes protested profusely, Dean forced them open in order to examine himself in the mirror.

The sight that met him was like a punch in the stomach. He rubbed at the spattered freckles as if they would come off like dried mud or stubborn stains; however it only caused his cheeks to become even more tinted with the faint rose colour. Everything just looked wrong. His eyes were too bright, his hair was too blonde, his nose was too, what, button-y? Whatever it was, it was all too much.

"Sonofabitch." Dean muttered in his high voice that undermined the majority of the anger he had poured into the word. His hands curled into fists at his side, pudgy fingers pressed against his palm.

He turned away from the mirror promptly, rubbing his face again. Not trying to remove freckles this time, but rather himself from this insane nightmare he'd been thrown into. His pint-sized body meant he was unable climb back onto the bed, no matter how much effort he put into the task. After a few struggling minutes, Dean finally admitted defeat and alternatively collapsed against the bed, ensuring that he was no longer facing a mirror or any object that would show his infuriating reflection. He pulled his knees close to his chin and tried to stabilise his breathing.

_This isn't happening_. He repeated the mantra countless times in his head, each time less convincing than the previous. He didn't dare say the phrase out loud, scared of the voice he would hear if he did and what attention it may gain. _Just a strange dream, a really, really strange dream. This could not be happening, not again._

But no matter how many times he reassured himself of this, the tears continued to sting his already painful eyes. It was not only the urge to cry that he was battling, he also had a to wrestle with the all-consuming desire to suck his thumb and call for help, preferably from someone maternal. He shook his head, deterring him from his own insane proposal.

Instead he concentrated on what had happened and how he could possibly fix it. It wasn't long before his mind raised queries about Sam.

_Right._

Last time had not been easy on either brother, and what with Ezekiel hitching a ride on his technically younger brother, Dean simply did not have the privilege of losing his mind at this moment in time.

Then Dean realised; the muffled talking he'd heard was gone.

He stood up on quaking legs, arms outstretched as he tried to balance himself. His movement was slow due to the restricting length of his legs. He gripped onto the frame of the bed to support him as he walked towards the door. No matter how shaky he felt, or how saw his eyes and head were, he refused to pause on his seemingly easy quest to the door.

His brain was working far too slowly. The combination of emotions, age and pain made it difficult to keep up with everything that was going on. He had his hand resting on the door handle when a new wave of questions hit him. Does Sam know already? Who did the muffled voices belong to? What would Sam do if he didn't already know? And if he did, what was he doing now?

Dean must've held that door handle for a solid 5 minutes. It was coming close to 10 minutes when he realised he had not yet moved. _Damn brain._

Slowly, and with more effort than he had anticipated, Dean opened the door. Allowing more light to encompass him. His eyes stung even more when faced with the intensely bright lighting, and that was the sole reason his eyes were watering.

He staggered through the hall, careful not to trip on the t-shirt that reached his feet. It would have been hard enough without these stupid jelly stumps he called his legs. With some added support from the wall, he reached his target: the kitchen. He paused in the doorway as soon as he noticed the blonde with her back to him. Before he had the chance to turn around and run, the girl spun round pretty gracefully and he was met with a warm, slightly awkward smile.

"Long time, no see." Idunn said with a hint of questioning in her voice, anxious of her word choice and demeanour towards Dean.

"Sonofabitch." He repeated mainly to himself, his voice sounding unbelievably young.

* * *

Sam sunk into a chair in the library, tossing his cell phone onto the table. His head fell into his hands as he tried to string together a single logical thought, all he had so far though was 'oh my god, oh my god.' Idunn had scuttled off to the kitchen to make some tea or coffee or something, Sam hadn't really been listening, he had other problems that preoccupied his mind.

Kevin looked up from the sheets of paper that were spread out in front of him. "What's up with you? And who was that girl you were with?"

Sam sighed, he just gained the power to accumulate a new thought, although this one may be inappropriate to say out loud.

"Well, you're going to find out sooner or later. Might as well be sooner." Sam straightened his body so he could now see Kevin. "The girl, Idunn, she's a Norse god we met a couple years back." Kevin's eyes widened at that._ Of course they know Norse gods,_ he thought to himself. He leaned in closer mainly out of intrigue. "Some trouble's arisen and, well, Dean's been turned into a kid."

"What?" Kevin spluttered.

"Yeah, I know, it's hard to believe but it's true." Kevin eyes glazed somewhat and he wasn't looking directly at Sam any more, he was concentrating more on his thoughts, shocked by the fact that there was something that existed that could actually do that. "Look, he's still asleep right now, but just try to act like everything's normal when you see him, or at least act as normal as you can. He kind of freaked out about it last time this happened; and trust me, you do not want that."

"This has happened before?" Kevin interrupted, his eyes focussing on Sam once more.

"Yeah, that's how we first met Idunn." Sam's head fell back, as the memories of the tribulations from 5 years ago returned to him, he ran his hands through his hair and released an exasperated breath. "It's still Dean, just in a smaller body." Kevin nodded slowly, his eyes were still unfocused nevertheless; the nod seemed more out of instinct than understanding.

Right on queue, the sound of footsteps filled the otherwise silent room. One pair feather soft, the other a little heavier.

Sam turned to see the origin of the footsteps. In the doorway stood his impossibly tiny brother with Idunn close at his heels, carrying a tray with a teapot on that he did not recognise. Dean looked exactly how he did five years ago, and thirty years ago, all blonde hair, green eyes and an abundance of freckles. Sam stared shocked at the kid, fixing his t-shirt that threatened to fall off his right shoulder. Even though Sam was now familiar with his brother as a child, it still surprised him just how young and innocent Dean had looked then. It shocked him that inside it was the same brother who had slaughtered a whole room filled with demons single handedly only a couple of days ago.

Although Sam could not see Kevin's expression, he was fairly certain it was one of absolute shock.

Sam tried not to stare at his brother too much, but this proved more difficult than it sounded. Dean caught Sam's penetrative stare, crossing his arms and scrunching up his miniature features in retaliation to Sam's evaluation.

"Wha' you starin' a'?" Dean's face was set into some kind of furious frown that everyone struggled to take seriously. Kevin actually had to leave the room after receiving a glare from Dean for stifling a laugh. Once Kevin had left Dean returned to staring at Sam, his second priority. "Wha' the hell's happened?" There it was again, the childish pronunciation of words that came with the de-ageing.

Idunn placed the tray on the table. "Dean, I was just explaining to Sam-" Idunn began.

Dean raised his hand to silence her. "No, I don' wanna hear anythin' fwom you."

"Right," She threw up her hands as a surrender. Both her and Dean then redirected their focus back to Sam, expectant of an explanation.

"It wasn't Idunn who did this, Dean, it was her mom." Sam cleared up first.

Dean's eyebrows furrowed. "I though' we iced her mom."

"No, that was my sister." Idunn filled in. She returned to her silent observation when Dean threw her a less than friendly sideways glance.

"Idunn turned up her last night in a pretty bad state so I patched her up and let her stay the night." Dean nodded, his suspicious facade slowly dwindling. "Her family had tried to use her spells as a way to make them young again, unfortunately it worked on you too." Sam continued.

"Gwea'." Dean moaned quietly.

"Don't worry though," Idunn said, ignoring Dean's hard stare this time. "We have a plan to fix this in no time."

"Wha's the plan then?" Dean asked, tilting his head at her.

"Well, we're going to go find them and put things back to how they're supposed to be." Idunn said with a grin.

"Foolproof." Dean sighed. "Wai', By 'we' you mean..." Dean waited for Idunn to fill in the rest of his sentence.

"Sam and I." She replied quickly.

Dean looked over at Sam accusingly.

"We decided it was the fastest way, Dean. And the safest." Sam stated. "Last time-"

"I know, I know." Dean interrupted. "'S jus', are you gonna leave me here? With Kevin? Alone?" Dean gestured to the door the prophet had left through. "You do wemember the las' time tha' you left me with a prophe', wigh'?"

"I've already called someone. As soon as they get here, we'll head off." Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam's proposition.

"Shouldn't take us too long though. We'll be back before you know it." Idunn supplied the consolation with a forced grin.

* * *

AN: Thanks for all the feedback so far and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I still wanted some mystery in it with who Sam's called for back up, I hope that will come as sort of a surprise (probably not though. The list of friends the Winchesters have is getting pretty short now.) Until next timex


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Panic snaked up Dean's spine as he watched Sam headed for his room. He soon hurried after him, trying to catch up while at the same time treading carefully to ensure that he didn't trip on the large shirt he wore. When he reached his brother's room, he saw that Sam had already begun packing a duffel bag with clothes and weapons.

"Wait," Dean gasped between quivering breaths, the bunker was a lot bigger now that he was four years old and he did not have the same level of stamina or agility. "Are you sewiously leavin' stwaight away?"

"No, I'm just packing now so we can leave as soon as possible." Sam replied, not pausing from his task. Dean rolled his eyes, a gesture unnoticed by his brother.

"I wanna come too." Dean stated, straightening his shoulders and setting his jaw, once again these actions were overlooked. Sam finally stopped packing his bag so he could concentrate on Dean. Now that Sam's attention was entirely on him, Dean fought against the sigh of relief that threatened to expose his true intentions. He wasn't completely sure what his plan would involve, but at least now he had a few more moments to devise at least an adequate one.

"Dean it's safer if you stay here." Sam tried smiling reassuringly, but didn't succeed as well as he'd have liked to. He lacked the capability to deal with children that Dean seemed to naturally possess. "There are angels and demons out there that would fully take advantage of you in this state. It's hard enough staying alive when we're both adults."

"But I'm not a kid." Dean pouted, he'd have liked to say that this was all part of his flourishing plan but truthfully he just felt hurt that Sam had called him a child. "And if there are so many thweats, how are you supposed to stay alive on your own?"

"I won't be on my own; I'll have Idunn for back up."

"She'll be abou' as useful as a puppy in a fight."

"And what, you'd be better." Sam said, fighting the sarcastic grin that tugged at his lips. He was fairly certain that Dean would only perceive it as a condescending action.

Dean crossed his arms and pouted even more. "I'm still a be'er shot than you." Sam decided to condone the jab.

"Dean, we both know this is the best way. It's not like I'm going out there blind." Dean nodded reluctantly, unable to present a counter argument. It wasn't the extent of Sam's skills that worried him; it was the angel that currently possessed his brother that worried him. The angel he didn't whole-heartedly trust.

Sam resolved that there was nothing left to discuss, began packing again. As Dean watched his brother arrange his belongings in the bag, he concluded that he was fighting a losing battle.

Dean turned away from his brother and walked back to his own room. He rubbed his forehead absent-mindedly, the piercing pain becoming a constant sting. The walk from Sam's room to his own seemed to stretch for miles, his legs dully aching due to the sparse, calculated steps he was forced to make.

Once back in the confines of his room, he searched through his belongings for the medallion Idunn had given him years before. He hadn't even thought about the amulet in years, so it was somewhat difficult to actually find it among the assortment of objects he'd collected during his years of hunting. After nearly fifteen minutes of searching, a mass of clothes and guns being discarded in a pile beside him and eating a forgotten candy bar he'd found in one of his bags, he found the thin gold chain that retained the incredibly realistic apple charm. He placed the chain over his head and felt its effects immediately. The sting of the headache was replaced by a small barely acknowledgeable buzz at the front of his head that he was certain a couple of painkillers could relinquish.

Now that his headache had been dealt with, he searched through the pile of clothes that were already on the floor for the smallest t-shirt he owned. This was more difficult than he had first assumed, considering how tall he was customarily. He finally found an old, slightly stained black one that was usually a little tight. He hadn't bothered throwing it away yet; instead he'd just shoved it to the bottom of his bag. For once his sluggishness had paid off. It was still much too large for his small body, but at least in this one he could see his toes.

While studying himself in the mirror- still avoiding his miniaturised facial features and making eye connection with his reflection- a rumble in his stomach bought his attention to something he was more comfortable thinking about: Food.

With a little less effort than before, he made his way back to the kitchen, the facsimile of his travels becoming irritating. He jumped when he saw Idunn standing alone in the room, leaning against the counter as she mindlessly fiddled with the hem of her blood stained t-shirt. Dean hadn't noticed until that moment just how much blood there had been, or the bruise that took up the left side of her face. Dean winced at the recollection of how blunt he had been with her.

"Oh, hey." Idunn had jumped slightly when she'd noticed Dean had entered the room, greeting him almost automatically.

"Hey." Dean replied, realising he hadn't actually formally greeted her yet. Thank god he wasn't being assessed on his hosting skills.

Idunn's eyes flicked to the apple pendant that dangled around Dean's neck. "The headaches are bad?" It wasn't so much a question but rather a queue for Dean to nod. Instead he grunted his affirmation- which sounded exceptionally foreign in his four year old throat- and tucked the chain into his shirt so it was no longer visible. Idunn decided to drop the obviously touchy subject. Despite the limited time she had spent with the Winchesters, she was fairly educated in their need to show absolutely no signs of weakness.

She grabbed her cup and sipped the scolding coffee, wincing as it burnt the inside of her mouth and tongue.

"You okay?" Dean asked after a moment of near silence, the only sounds were the slurping of coffee and constant breathing.

"What?" Idunn placed the cup down on the counter.

Dean gestured to the patch of blood on her shirt.

"Oh right." She looked down at the stain likewise. "Yeah, I can hardly feel it anymore." She lifted her shirt to show a wound that didn't look like it had been obtained the previous night. "One of the perks of being a god, I guess." The sight of her smirking lessened the weight of guilt that Dean felt for how cruel he'd been. It wasn't technically her fault after all.

"Did you want some breakfast?" She straightened her t-shirt as she asked the question. "I have no idea where anything is or what you actually have in here," She sighed faintly as she stared at the different components of the kitchen. "But I could try my best."

Dean shook his head. "I'll figure somethin' out by myself."

"Are you sure? No offence or anything, but you may not be able to reach all the cupboards."

"I'll be fine." Dean snapped harshly, tensing nearly every muscle in his body, his fist clenching at his sides.

Idunn staggered backwards so she was leaning on the counter once more. "Right, right. Sorry I even asked." She picked up her mug, muttering tacitly, "Oh, Sam said no coffee." Before exiting the kitchen without looking back.

Dean sighed, silently reprimanding himself. He had to get a grip on his emotions, they could really prove to be a problem if he let them progress. He could handle the extent of his own thoughts, but no one else deserved to be on the receiving end of them. He cursed himself again when he realised Idunn had been correct, he was humiliatingly too short to reach half the cupboards that contained anything remotely edible. The only thing that was in his reach was a slice of buttered bread, strategically placed on the edge of the counter. It may have not been exceptional, but at least it would fill his empty stomach.

Eating it though made him feel even worse about lashing out at Idunn.

Dean wandered out of the kitchen, stumbling upon Idunn in the library. She was sat at one of the tables; a book lay open in front of her. From what he could see, which admittedly wasn't a great deal, the writing didn't look English; it was all squiggles and weird looking symbols. He guessed that it was pretty ancient, the pages were well-worn and the bunker had plenty of old books that were written in a number of dead languages. Then he remembered how he'd struggled to read simple sentences when he had last been transformed into a young child, so for all he knew Idunn could've been reading Harry Potter.

He stood in the surplus silence a moment longer, remaining undiscovered, wringing his hands in preparation of apologising.

"Thanks, for leavin' the bread." Dean blurted abruptly. Idunn glanced up from her book, only the slightest sign of surprise present on her face. Dean shuffled further into the room now that he'd attained her attention.

"Oh, don't mention it." She looked down again, still cold and reserved.

"I'm sorry for," Dean paused, waiting for Idunn to look up again before realising she wasn't going to. "For before. It's jus', well with everythin' that's goin' on..." Dean huffed, his whole body moving with the breath.

Idunn smiled, it was akin to the comforting smile Dean remembered from their first encounter. When she had baked cookies and seemed as if she was a character from a 1950's sitcom.

"I get it. Things haven't been too swell for me either lately."

"No kiddin'." Dean muttered, the blood on her shirt becoming increasingly apparent. "What happened to the wainbows, sunshine and Disney World gig anyway? I though' you liked it there."

"I did, very much so. But a lot's changed since then." She sighed and turned her chair so she was facing Dean directly, leaning forward in her chair so that her elbows rested on her knees. Dean edged closer but maintained a comfortable distance between them. "Your little stunt meant that I couldn't go back to the life I'd built for myself. I had to leave." Her eyes fluttered down to the floor, her modest smile faltering but not disappearing wholly. "I thought I'd gotten out, you know? I thought that I'd gotten a normal life. The house, the job, even a dog; but that was all taken from me." Dean was silent, his line of sight also dropping to a phantom spot on the floor. He'd heard the story a million times; often varying at points but all along the same lines.

Idunn must have noticed the guilt Dean placed on himself since she quickly confirmed, "It wasn't just you that bought them there. They would have found me sooner or later. Honestly, I shouldn't have been foolish enough to settle down again. It never really ends well." Dean saw through her forced smile. The defence he'd used before to conceal how much pain he'd truly endured. He wasn't sure whether it was the spell or something else, but he seemed more in tune with how Idunn sincerely felt, how her eyes shone with the pain Dean knew only came with a great loss. He hadn't considered before now how much Idunn had previously lost. He dug his toe into the floor, looking up again when he heard the soft creek of the old chair.

Idunn had stood and was placing the book back on the shelf. "I've been on the run since we last met, never staying in one place too long; I guess that didn't work as well as I'd hoped." She turned back to Dean, kneeling down so that they were eye level with one another. An effortless smile graced her face, once again reviving the memories Dean had of the jubilant woman he'd met 5 years ago. "I'm so sorry you ever got dragged into any of this. I know how much of a pain it is; no one deserves it, especially not you, Dean" She ruffled his hair affectionately, his cheeks burning slightly.

Out of the few memories he had of his mother, a lot of them resembled situations like this. The soft, almost rhythmic voice, that meant each Sybille like a droplet of melted honey being poured from a pot. The skin of her palm was smooth against his warm, plump cheek; if he squinted enough, even her wavy blonde hair reminded him of his mother. But it wasn't just the physical features, it was her whole composure. The same motherly attitude that Ellen retained, that Sheriff Mills had displayed; the type of outlook on a situation that only came with having a child.

Dean looked into her expressive faded denim blue eyes, locking onto them for the first time since she'd arrived. She seemed a lot older than the last time they'd met, not in her face, that was as young as it had been five years ago, so much so that Dean questioned whether a single day had actually passed since they'd first met, no, it was her soul that had aged. Her posture and general aura seemed worn, tired. He noticed how her eyes softened when his own widened with concern.

"You need to stop worrying about everybody else, Dean. Give yourself a break, not everybody needs protecting all of the time." Dean snorted at Idunn's advice.

"Yeah, sure an' while I'm at it I'll take a twip to Vegas to unwind." His reaction wasn't as harsh or hostile as it would have usually been.

Idunn laughed, brushing away the strands of hair that she had accidentally swept into Dean's face. "I'm serious Dean. All this worrying can't be healthy for you. You need to think about yourself once in a while."

He couldn't come up with any smart ass replies, only that he knew Idunn must have been wrong. How could he not worry with everything that was going on? But he didn't want to burden Idunn with any of the details so he simply replied with a hollow "Okay."

The insincerity of the reply must have been clear since Idunn's eyebrows rose marginally, her eyes narrowing to study Dean's reddening expression further, searching for a more detailed explanation to Dean's uneasiness.

Luckily he was saved from the chick flick moment thanks to an intrusive knock at the door. He wriggled out from Idunn's uncomfortably penetrative stare and rushed to the main entrance to discover the source of the much appreciated interruption.

Sam was already answering the door when he arrived. From his spot at the base of the stairs he could barely see Charlie wrap her arms around Sam's neck. Dean grinned at the sight of their close friend in her bright T-shirt and clashing jacket, he could think of worse people to be stuck with for a couple of days.

"Hey Sam." Charlie said as she stepped back from the embrace, smirking as broadly as ever. Her eyes flicked down to where Dean stood at the base of the stairs. "Wow, you weren't kidding." She directed the statement at Sam but her eyes never left Dean's, a small laugh was present in her voice but it wasn't precisely humorous, most likely nerves.

"Did you bring everything?" Sam asked, near enough oblivious to Charlie's utter shock.

"Right." Her eyes snapped from Dean's suddenly, instead focussing on one of the bags that she carried. "It's all in here." She raised one bag slightly, indicating that was the one she was referring to. "I wasn't sure how small he'd be though so I just grabbed a few of each size." Sam accepted the bag that she handed him, glancing at the contents through the small opening.

"Thanks, they're great." He dropped the bag to his side.

"No problem, at least this favour is just babysitting. No risking my life this time, right?" Worry shone in her eyes momentarily as she stared intensely at Sam throughout her nervous laugh, waiting for confirmation.

Sam laughed softly in response, "Yeah, just babysitting. Although it is Dean that you're babysitting, so..."

"Hey," Dean huffed, crossing his arms. "Right here, and I'm not a baby anyway."

Sam shrugged at Charlie as if Dean had just illustrated his point, perfectly on queue.

* * *

AN: Sorry, this chapter took a little longer than usual. I try to update every Sunday, but rarely do I achieve that. Well done to those who guess Charlie. I really wanted to include her in the last one but the series wasn't right, at least she'd in it now though. Reviews are welcome and appreciated like always. Thanks.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The selection of clothes that Charlie had bought didn't seem to offend Dean as much as Sam had presumed they would. Despite Dean's best efforts to hide the near gleeful smile, Sam recognised the small -almost undistinguishable- inclinations of Dean's features that showed his brother actually liked the clothes Sam had asked Charlie to pick up. Her choices of clothing weren't anything too adventurous; mainly plain, dark T-shirts and jeans, safe options Sam had insisted she bought. He remembered Dean's complete initial contempt for the childish images on T-shirts that Sam had given him the first time. Dean had only begun to show a fondness toward them after his mind began to deteriorate; Sam hoped they could resolve this quickly enough so it would not escalate to that stage this time.

Loyal to the Winchester fashion, Charlie had managed to find a miniature flannel shirt that was also folded neatly within the bag. She had been right about the sizing too. Some of the shirts seemed a little baggy when held up against Dean's torso, but generally the clothing looked like it would fit comfortably. The simple sneakers looked as though they would fit fine and didn't stand out too much against the darker colour scheme of the rest of the clothes. Sam knew the restraint it must've taken for Charlie to stick to the gloomy colours that he'd limited her to. She had even found a set of pyjamas Dean didn't hate, granted they were just plain grey ones, but nonetheless that was an achievement in itself.

"I thought he would've been, you know-" Charlie said in a hushed voice, leaning towards Sam. Dean was a couple feet in front of them rooting through the bag that Sam had placed on the floor, pulling items out to examine each one closely before throwing them in a cluttered pile beside him. Sam gritted his teeth lightly, knowing that he would be the one forced to re-organise the now creased clothes.

"Bigger?" Sam hazarded a guess, his voice matching Charlie's in volume. He had to agree, the thought had occurred to him the first time his brother had been turned into a four year old. Dean was incredibly small. It was hard to imagine that this tiny ball of excitement, with eyes that glistened with actual hope and a smile that was genuine would become his cynical and down-trodden older brother. Any resemblance was purely physical, and even then that was a stretch.

"I guess." Charlie whispered back, not convinced that 'bigger' was the correct word to use but deciding it was not worth the struggle of finding a more appropriate one. Both continued to watch as Dean rummaged through the bag, twisting his whole body around occasionally to display something he found especially appeasing. He even released a quiet yelp of excitement when he discovered the stash of toys Charlie had bought. Charlie chuckled at the reaction while Sam near enough beamed; it was kind of bitter-sweet how Dean found so much joy in such mundane and banal things, common privileges he had not received as a child. It was as if he'd struck gold at the bottom of the bag rather than finding a somewhat rusted toy robot. It was nice though, seeing excitement on Dean's face instead of the agony that occasionally pierced through his constant, inscrutable mask he had recently donned, even if his face did look considerably different.

"When are you planning on setting off then?" Charlie asked, her eyes finally moving away from Dean and onto Sam.

Sam checked his watch, seeing that it hadn't even reached midday yet, Charlie had been closer and more obtainable than he'd expected. "In a couple of hours I think, it depends on how everything goes here." Sam continued to watch his brother, Dean had had a valid point about the issues that had arisen the last time when Sam had relied on a less than responsible caretaker for his brother while he'd tracked down a way of turning him back; but they didn't exactly have many other options.

Charlie nodded, mulling over the schedule she had carefully planned out to survive the duration in which she cared for Dean. She opened her mouth as if to say something but before she could, Dean cut her off with by softly clearing his throat. He'd ceased his inspection of the contents of the bag and now stood in front of Charlie and Sam, in his left arm, he held a suitable ensemble of clothes that he'd selected from the bag. "I'm just gonna ge' changed." He announced, lifting his arm that held the clothes to illustrate said action.

Sam debated whether or not to ask his brother if he would need help getting changed, concluding that although it may not be the least stressful or insult-provoking, he really had to ask, he had the obligation to ask.

Just as he'd predicted, Dean immediately went on the defensive claiming that he didn't need help with anything (especially if that help came from Sam).

Rather than quarrelling and upsetting his brother further, Sam stood silently as he watched Dean totter away towards his room, muttering almost silent complaints to himself about the infuriating nature of Sam's treatment of him. As his brother began to turn a corner and disappear from sight completely, Sam called after him, "Just shout if you do need anything."

Dean waved his hand that wasn't carrying his clothes, not even looking back as he continued the now tedious journey to his room. Sam had a slight suspicion that the refusal to look in their direction was not only due to Dean's irritation, but also an attempt to hide the reddening of his cheeks that would reveal the humiliation he endured. _At least he has two functioning arms this time_, Sam thought to himself.

His comforting thoughts were disturbed by Charlie's slightly louder voice, "I get what you mean now about babysitting Dean." Sam looked at her noticing the minute fear that was painted across her face, it may have only been in sporadic streaks but there was enough to build up a clear picture. Her eyes were a little wider than usual as she stared at the spot Dean had just disappeared from, her breathing was vaguely more irregular and there was a noticeable difficulty in the simple task.

"Don't worry; he doesn't always act like this. He's just a little... heated right now. It will pass. Just give him pie, toys and a movie and he'll calm right down." Sam reassured her, picking the bag of clothes up off the floor. "He's actually pretty fun once he gets a handle on all the emotions." Sam decided to leave out the 'kind of' he almost included at the end. He brushed off Charlie's apprehension while placing the jumble of clothes back in the bag by confirming, "It'll be a blast for both of you."

"Right, I've babysat loads of kids, nothing I can't handle." It was mainly a reminder to herself.

"Thanks again, for doing this. I can't begin to explain how helpful you're being." Sam said, diverting Charlie from talking herself out helping them.

Luckily, Charlie had changed her mind-set as she now smiled broadly. "Hey, the freckles alone were worth the trip." Sam chuckled, glad to see that she had regained the confidence she would desperately need. "Plus, I'd never pass up the chance to visit this place, it's beyond awesome." She looked around the room, appreciating the stunning decor and structure of the bunker, not to mention the array of weapons that were dotted around the place.

Now that Charlie had regained her confidence, Sam thought it was the best opportunity to fill her in on the details of what was going on, he'd only mentioned briefly about a Norse God turning Dean into a child. When Sam had first explained their predicament over the phone, Charlie had laughed and accused it of being an unfunny joke. After Sam had finally convinced her that he was in fact telling the truth, she had been speechless; it didn't take much more talking before she'd agreed to drop everything, pick up some supplies and rush over to the bunker. It wasn't exactly an everyday instance that your friend was the victim of a Norse spell (The whole Norse mythology thing was just added bait for a fish that had already bit).

Charlie did seem to know a lot about Norse mythology delving into the variety of God's that she was aware of. The excitement in her voice was easily noticeable when she discussed the different possible culprits behind the attack and spell. The source of her excessive and seemingly random knowledge of all things Norse-like was soon cleared up when she crudely stated "I've read Thor" after Sam questioned her about it.

Sam also had a chance now to explain that the plan involved finding Freya, Idunn's mother, and the other members of Idunn's family. "We're heading to Minnesota, apparently that's where the majority of Idunn's family live. It's something to do with Scandinavian tradition." Sam shrugged at the explanation he hadn't fully comprehended himself when Idunn had informed him of her mother's current location. "It's going to be about a 12 hour drive so if we leave soon we should be back in a day or two, possibly three depending on how successful things are during the trip."

Charlie nodded, offering to help out where she could while watching Dean. Sam then explained to her the whole situation involving Crowley who was locked in the store room, "It's probably best to just avoid that entire area, and make sure Dean does the same." Charlie didn't seem too confident with the knowledge that there was a demon in their close proximity. The fear that had been gently simmering within Charlie threatened to bubble over at that moment. "Don't worry about it, there shouldn't be any problems. He's tied up and there's demon protection, impossible for him to get out. You won't even notice him; it will just be less hassle if you stay away. Also, could you keep an eye on Kevin?"

"Kevin?" Charlie asked.

"Right, um Kevin's a prophet. He's living with us at the moment and he's having a little trouble." Charlie nodded, wondering if there were any other surprises that lurked in the bunker, although knowing the Winchesters it would be unlikely if there weren't hidden surprises she'd discover along the way. "He stays in his room mainly but if you do see him, just check if he's eaten or slept at all, the basics. You'll love him though; he's a fan of Star Wars." She grinned, absentmindedly thinking of far off galaxies and princesses as she revised the mental notes she had comprised of the information Sam had provided.

Finally, Sam filled her in on the general information she'd need to care for Dean and any tips he remembered from last time, although those hadn't seemed to help all that much.

"He's only really allergic to cats so you shouldn't face any trouble there; but there's plenty of medication around if there are any medical issues. If it gets worse, um, call a doctor I guess. He'll most likely claim he doesn't need one, but Dean lies _a lot_ so I wouldn't trust him on anything regarding his health." Sam just seemed to imitate every generic parent in every movie Charlie had ever seen, she repressed the laughter triggered by both the Winchesters' behaviour. Sam didn't seem to notice the hilarity of the situation and continued his instructions. "Everything you might need is already in the bunker so you shouldn't have to leave, it would be best if you didn't. Trouble just seems to seek us out and Dean isn't in any state to handle it." Charlie couldn't help but grin at the accuracy of Sam's words. "If he gets mad or upset just give him pie, it'll fix most problems and come in handy a lot over the next couple of days."

"Right, got it. Two or three days; Thor and co; demon locked in the closet, avoid at all times; no going outside; no cats; don't trust Dean and pie." Charlie summed up speedily with a grin at the end. "Oh, and Kevin and Star Wars. Yep, _definitely_ got it."

Sam grinned back, _God it's weird talking about Dean like this._

Before the conversation could develop any further -becoming even more unfamiliarly suburban- Dean re-entered the room now fully dressed in dark jeans and a military green T-shirt; his clothes looked a little too neat, especially since the last time Sam had witnessed Dean at the age of four attempt to dress himself, his brother had ended up like a paralysed tortoise stuck on its back. Sam figured the apparel success was thanks to Idunn who followed from a short distance behind Dean.

"Idunn, this is Charlie." Sam said as she approached. Dean had stopped suddenly, resulting in her almost tripping over him. After an astute hop to the side, Idunn came to a rest in front of Sam and Charlie. Dean now stood a couple of feet behind Idunn, distracted by the collar of his t-shirt that he irately tugged at.

"Hey," Charlie, whose smile beamed so brightly that it was almost blinding, held out a hand which Idunn accepted gladly. "I've read a lot about you."

Idunn nodded reservedly, stepping back slightly while glancing over Charlie. The kind smile that she wore waned only marginally at the corners of her raspberry coloured lips.

"Not in a creepy way or anything, it's just this comic... well, um." Charlie began mumbling, trying to correct her admittedly stalkerish choice of words.

"It's fine, I'm just not really used to fans." Idunn's voice lacked any confidence or conviction. Sam remembered how the last fan Idunn had had caused the whole problem the first time around. For anyone, attention from an enthusiastic 'fan' would most likely be undesirable after an occurrence similar to that. "Oh, and those comics aren't really accurate by the way. Half of what's in there is just nonsense. I mean, a rainbow bridge, seriously?"

The ecstatic light in Charlie's vibrant eyes shattered, it was as if someone had told her Father Christmas didn't exist for the very first time. "Of course," the heartbreak in Charlie's heart was evident, "That would be ridiculous."

"When are you leavin'?" Dean asked now that he'd fixed his collar. He was hoping to fill the tense silence that now loitered between the four of them.

Sam glanced from Idunn to Charlie before settling his eyes on Dean. "We'll grab something to eat and then go, I think." Sam quickly added, "Unless anyone thinks…"

"No, it's fine. Eat then leave. Don' waste time." Dean trailed off, muttering something unintelligible to himself after that before heading to the kitchen. Idunn threw a quick glance at Sam as she passed him while following Dean, silently asking if he knew what was bothering Dean.

Sam shrugged in reply, other than the age regression and the usual issues, he couldn't think of anything. It wasn't exactly unusual for Dean to give everybody the cold shoulder. His brother was often ill tempered for no plausible reason; however this didn't seem like Dean's standard aggravation, this was something different, an emotion Sam wasn't yet accustomed to.

Once Dean was irrefutably out of ear shot, Charlie leaned in towards Sam again, opting for the now familiar low whisper. "Good thing I bought plenty of pie, huh?" Charlie laughed tautly before following Dean.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "I'm just going to fill Kevin in before we leave. He's just going to _love_ this." He headed to the room Kevin had practically barricaded himself in during his time at the bunker, mentally planning the fastest route to take to Minnesota.

* * *

AN: I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's a bit of a slow build but hopefully your enjoying the story. Thank you for all the reviews, they're always welcomed and appreciated. Update soonx


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Sam and Idunn had left the bunker just after noon. Dean had protested them taking the impala at first but yielded when Sam pointed out that it was their only method of transport. It wasn't too difficult explaining to Kevin what the plan was. In fact Sam was surprised at how well Kevin had taken it. Oddly, he'd seemed the most adjusted about it out of all of them. It was Dean who had caused the most hassle, telling Sam not to go or relentlessly insisting that he went with them regardless the number of times Sam reminded him why it was a bad idea. His brother's whole behaviour seemed abnormal, even when Sam thought back to the last time Dean had been four he hadn't been so petulant or clingy.

Sam pushed the troubling thought out of his mind, choosing to concentrate on the stretching road instead. They'd been driving in near silence for the past couple of hours. The only sound that filled the impala was the static-punctuated hums of the radio. Idunn had a map spread out across her knees, marking a variety of routes and working out which would take the least time and how to avoid the busiest roads renowned for traffic and hold-ups. Then she began marking pit-stops and gas stations along the way, muttering about how much time they could spare to spend at each stop and determining the total length of the journey. Sam was pretty impressed with how precise and detailed Idunn was with the plans; usually Sam and Dean would just drive in a general direction until they reached their destination, relying on their memory and personal geographical skills.

"If we stick to the I-29 now and only stop at these points we should get to Bemidji just after mid-night. We'll stop there for the night and then drive back to Minneapolis tomorrow." Idunn pointed out the highlighted locations on the map when Sam glanced over. Each point was a couple hundred miles between each other; they were all colour-coded and had small cartoonish symbols above them that Idunn had doodled to distinguish their functions. Sam recognised two points with pink forks above them that he assumed represented diners or fast-food places. He also picked out multiple green cartons, most likely gas stations. "I mean, if there are any emergencies then we should stop so the trip might take longer. Damn! I forgot to schedule in bathroom breaks." She began furiously scribbling on the map.

Sam couldn't help but smile at Idunn's erratic behaviour. Assured that there were no other cars on the road, he spared a quick glance over to the goddess who held a pen lid in her mouth as she leant over the map mumbling to herself. "Idunn, its fine, just stop with the planning. It's more than what we normally have."

Idunn sighed and leaned her head back, still looking fairly exhausted from the night before but considerably better than that morning. She pulled the pen lid out of her mouth and fiddled with it mindlessly. "I'm sorry. It's just that planning kind of relaxes me." She spoke to the roof of the car.

"You didn't seem very relaxed." Sam noted.

"Well, maybe it doesn't make me feel relaxed but it_ does_ make me feel a little more in control. I mean, I can no longer use any of my spells and it's kind of my fault that Dean's stuck being four." She sighed again, completely melting into the seat. "Besides this," She shook the map causing a couple of pens to tumble to the floor, "I'm pretty much useless."

Sam continued to stare at the road, not sure how to comfort her. "Look, we know it wasn't your fault and you're helping fix it. That's what matters now." He nudged her arm with his elbow. "Besides, without you how would we know where to look?"

Idunn laughed lightly. "You're really bad at this, you know." She straightened her back and began concentrating on the map again, not as obsessive as before though. "I'm not entirely sure where they are exactly yet." She studied a map of Minnesota closely. She'd already highlighted possible hideouts in yellow but hadn't been able to narrow it down to any particular place yet, and there was a lot of yellow on the map. "I'm hoping that as we get closer I'll be able to pick up frequency or power disruptions. Considering the quantity of people in my family it shouldn't be too difficult, but if they've find a way to camouflage that…"

"We'll find them." That was a fact. "How hard will it be to find a bunch of gods? And in Minnesota of all places." Sam reassured her.

Idunn nodded but didn't say anything.

"What's in Minnesota anyway?" Sam asked as a way to fill the silence.

Idunn shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, my family have lived there for centuries. There's a lot of Scandinavian heritage in Minnesota so it's actually pretty similar to home: cold, same kind of food, lots of lakes. They sort of migrated there as the rest of Europe did, my family didn't really want to lose all their followers…" She paused for a moment, breathing slowly as she straightened in her seat, before almost inaudibly adding, "And human sacrifices."

Sam nodded slowly, fighting the urge to physically wince or shudder. It wasn't that much of a surprise that gods sacrificed people, but that didn't mean that it was any less disturbing.

"We'll have to make a brief visit to an old friend of mine when we get to Bemidji. We might need something that can kill a god- just in case- and unfortunately we don't have an archangel to help us out this time." Idunn explained. "We'll have to go in the morning though. I don't think she'll be very appreciative if we turn up in the middle of the night."

"Are you certain you can trust this friend of yours?" Sam asked.

"Oh, definitely. If anyone is more hated by my family than me, it's Berthe. We have this form of an alliance." Idunn relaxed in her chair again and they fell back into silence.

They continued travelling in silence for a while, Sam concentrating on the road and Idunn nodding her head slightly to the music from the radio as she scribbled more notes onto the map, before the buzz of Sam's phone disrupted the dense silence.

"Sam?" Charlie's voice was near frantic when Sam picked up.

"Yeah, Charlie what's going on?" He asked. Idunn looked up quizzically when she heard Sam's worried response.

"Oh, you know, not much. It's just, uh, I think Dean may have lost his mind."

* * *

Charlie hadn't realised how easy this babysitting gig actually was. It had been nearly three hours since Sam had left and she was almost starting to enjoy herself. Sam had been right, now that Dean had settled down he actually made for good company. Excluding the higher pitched voice and the change in height (which Charlie wasn't too bothered by; how many chances would she get at saying she was taller than a Winchester?), Dean was essentially exactly the same as he usually was.

It had also been less eventful than Charlie had been expecting, just sitting around marathoning classic Star Trek, it was essentially an average afternoon for Charlie. Dean was practically silent, only making a couple trivial comments about an episode or releasing the occasional gasp of surprise if something remarkably shocking happened in the plot line. He lay on his stomach on the bed beside Charlie, mouth slightly agape and eyes fixed on the screen, mesmerised by the adventures of the Star Trek Enterprise. Looking after Dean was an even easier experience than when she'd agreed to mind her friend's dog for a couple of days, at least Dean knew good TV.

She might have been worried by Dean's lack of vocal contribution, but he seemed contempt and it wasn't like he was an avid gossip anyway; it was better than any complaining or tantrums most kids were prone to, then Charlie would've definitely been worried. The only thing that was abnormal to Dean's usual behaviour -besides the position in which he sat- was that he held the toy robot Charlie had bought in front of him. He wasn't playing with it or even really paying it any attention, just holding it.

Before she'd even realised she'd fallen asleep, Charlie was woken up by small fingers prodding at her face. She shook her head and batted the tiny hand away only to have her nose poked harder. Her eyes snapped open to see Dean's face extremely close to her own. She moved back, causing Dean to jump and mirror her actions. He looked even smaller and younger than before.

"Dean?" She blinked the sleep out of her eyes. "What do you want?"

Dean scrunched up his nose, his head tilting in confusion, but not saying anything.

"Did the DVD end? Are you hungry?" She still received no answer or indication that she was on the right track. Dean simply stared at her with wide inquisitive eyes. "What's up with you? Why aren't you talking?"

Dean looked down pitifully at the robot he clutched in his hands. Charlie had to lean in to hear his muttered response, "My mommy said you're not supposed to talk to strangers."

"What are you talking about?" Dean continued to stare at the apparently fascinating toy robot. "I'm not a stranger." Charlie clarified, hoping Dean would start behaving normally again.

Dean looked up at that, studying Charlie's face. His voice was still quiet but not as shaky. "Do you know my mommy? She has lots of friends but I don't remember them all." Worrying thoughts began entering Charlie's mind, she begged that her suspicions were incorrect. Dean watched, waiting for Charlie to answer him.

"Um, yeah. I, uh, I know your parents." Charlie forced out, trying desperately not to freak out.

Dean smiled causing his entire face to light up. He seemed completely satisfied with Charlie's answer even if she wasn't. "Are they here?" Dean asked whilst he looked around the room expectantly, as if they would simply pop up from behind the bed.

Charlie shook her head, struggling to form any sentences. "No, they had to go… somewhere?"

"Oh, okay." Dean seemed a little deflated at that, his head falling slightly as his hopeful expression turning to one similar to apathy. He turned away from Charlie and toward the TV that was still playing Star Trek. He sat down and shuffled forward on the bed so he was nearer to the screen.

Charlie felt her heart in her throat, making it difficult to both breathe and ignore the rapid beating of her heart. How could Dean not remember? Sam hadn't mentioned anything remotely like this happening last time, only headaches. She was fairly certain this would not be fixed with baby aspirin. She quickly thought of other possibilities but came up short. "Dean?"

Dean spun around to face her. "Yeah?"

"You know Sam, right?" She asked. _Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes_.

"Who?" Charlie felt a small part of her brain explode.

"Oh, it doesn't matter. Um, I just have to make a quick call." She snatched the phone off the side and hurried out of the room, shutting the door behind her. She leant against the opposite wall, breathing steadily as she watched the door. Once her breathing resembled anything remotely controlled, she scrolled through her contacts until she got to S. She selected Sam's name and clicked the call button.

"Sam?" She asked the moment someone picked up. She tried not to sound too dishevelled but knew that she'd failed drastically.

"Yeah, Charlie what's going on?" Sam's reply was fast and apprehensive. Great, now Sam's worried.

"Oh, you know, not much. It's just, uh, I think Dean may have lost his mind." She tried to laugh but it just came out as a strangled cough, she blamed the fact that her heart was still prominent in her throat.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked. She heard him shush someone with him.

"Um, he doesn't know who I am, or who you are, and he keeps asking for your mom." She tried to rid her voice of the stress and uneasiness that she felt.

"What?"

"Look, I don't know what's going on. I must've fallen asleep and when I woke up… well, it's Memento." She didn't hear what Sam had muttered. "I'm sorry Sam. I should have been watching him."

"Charlie, calm down." Sam stopped her rambling.

"Right." She resisted the urge to apologise again.

"I'm going to put you on loud speaker; Idunn wants to ask you some questions." Sam said, sounding strangely rational.

"Hi, Charlie." She heard the new British accent. "Is Dean with you?"

"He's just next door. I left to phone Sam." Charlie explained.

"Can you ask him how old he thinks he is?" Idunn asked.

Charlie nodded before realising that they could not see the gesture. She took a quivering breath before entering the room again. Dean lifted his head at the sound of the opening door and stared at her.

"Dean, um, I was just wondering; how old are you?" Charlie asked, trying to keep up the façade of being calm and collected.

Dean bit his lip in concentration as he thought. After a couple of seconds he answered, "Three, but my mommy said it won't be long until I'm four."

"Okay, thanks." Charlie plastered on a smile that felt far too wide as she closed the door again. "He said three." She said into the phone which was once again pressed against her ear.

"That's not right." Idunn replied, shaking her head in her thought. "That's younger than the initial transformation, unless… damn."

"What?" Sam and Charlie asked simultaneously.

"They must have found out how to cast new spells." Idunn sighed exasperatedly.

"So this is a _new_ spell?" Charlie asked, equally conceding.

"Unfortunately." Idunn confirmed.

"But why did Dean lose his memory so quickly? Last time it took quite a while before his mind was affected." Sam commented. Charlie was impressed by her own self-control when she managed not to make a verbal comment regarding how Sam had chosen not to mention that fact to her when he'd explained everything else. _So cats were important but this wasn't?_

"That was with one curse and it was a miracle that his mind wasn't turned to jelly then. Do you know what an onslaught two curses is? Bear in mind these spells were made predominantly for _gods_. Most people would have fallen into a coma by now." Sam's distress was evident even over the phone. "Don't worry." Idunn appended quickly. "If it hasn't happened by now it won't happen at all. It would've been immediate."

Charlie and Sam both released relieved sighs.

"Can you fix it? Make his memories come back?" Sam asked desperately.

"Theoretically, yes." Idunn replied. She didn't sound entirely confident, and 'theoretically' wasn't exactly reassuring. "But it depends on how long his mind is affected by the curse and to what extent." Idunn paused for a moment. "Just make sure nothing too emotionally damaging happens."

"Right, okay." Charlie said. How was she supposed to guarantee that nothing emotional happened? She'd read the books; the Winchesters weren't exactly known for drama free lives.

"And call back if anything does happen. Keep us as informed as possible." Idunn said before quickly hanging up after giving the instructions.

Charlie closed her eyes as she leant against the wall. "And things were going so well." She sighed.

* * *

"This is not good." Idunn groused quietly, grumbling as she leaned her head back.

"Why? What's going to happen to Dean?" Sam probed nervously. His panic peaked at Idunn's comment.

"It's not Dean that's troubling me, well, not solely. He's not our main problem anymore."

"He doesn't remember _anything_." Sam emphasised the point as if Idunn had forgotten.

"Yes, but if someone -who I think we can assume is my mother- is casting new spells, it can only be because they've found my collection of books." Sam didn't seem to grasp the severity of the situation. "_That means_ that they have access to very powerful spells." Idunn elaborated as if it were obvious.

"Well, they have spells to keep them young. I still don't see what the big problem is." Sam was becoming irritated that Idunn wasn't focusing completely on fixing Dean.

"It's a _very big_ problem!" The tension in the impala was intensifying. "The books aren't only about age spells." Idunn breathed softly. "When I fled, I kind of stole some pretty important books, books with extremely dangerous spells in them. Imagine the ability to cause disasters on a global scale, typhoons, volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, mass plague, asteroids colliding with the earth, blocking out the sun for months on end. You name it, there's a spell for it. And now very spiteful people have gotten their hands on all of them."

"Oh," Sam wasn't sure what else to say.

"Exactly." Idunn looked out the window, mumbling quietly. "Plus if they destroy the books, well... I might not be able to turn Dean back." Sam barely heard the last part that had tumbled out of her mouth so rapidly, all within the same uneasy breath.

"You don't know the spell?" Sam asked, stunned by Idunn's words.

"It's a long spell." Idunn said defensively.

Sam increased the pressure on the exhaust pedal. Weirdly, a whispering, nagging voice in his mind insisted that he should take his time, perhaps even slow down a little; as if this wasn't radically important. "We'll just get there before that happens then. Sorry about the plans, Idunn, but we're going to have to cut out most of those stops."

Idunn mumbled her annoyance but made no objection, she merely scribbled out nearly all the notes she'd made on the map.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Charlie wasn't sure how long she had been sat in the corridor, how long it had been since she'd shoved the phone back in her pocket and slid down the wall, hitting the floor with an ungraceful thud. She did know that she couldn't stand up at that exact moment. Her thoughts were too busy frantically buzzing around her mind for her to control her legs properly. She struggled trying to rein her wandering thoughts in, her nerves would not settle and her heart desperately wanted to relocate to an area outside of her ribcage.

Her knees were pulled up against her chest, her head resting between the two peaks. She needed to think straight and that meant clearing her mind of the anxiety that bounced back and forth in her skull, alternating between panic and disbelief. She dug her knees further into her eye sockets, provoking a satisfying sting. If she couldn't see the problem, it wasn't actually there. She knew this wasn't true, but the consuming darkness allowed her brain to produce productive thoughts as opposed to solely panic.

She breathed in deep, proud of her rationalised thoughts and recomposed attitude. _I'm being stupid_, she thought. _I've dealt with leviathan and crazy murderers and weird ass genie people. I can handle this; this should be the easiest of all of them_. But as she breathed out, her own mind betrayed her and she was reminded that this would not be easy in any term or definition of the word.

"Hello?" There a light knock at the bedroom door which accompanied the explorative whisper. "Are you still there, lady?" The door handle wiggled marginally.

Charlie stood up and brushed of her jeans, which surprisingly weren't that dirty (for such an old building, Charlie had expected the place to be covered in dust and cobwebs like the majority of old buildings were. But there wasn't anything like that, not even that funny smell that old buildings seemed to mysteriously accumulate.) she breathed in one last breathe to steady her wobbling legs that had become numb from sitting in that position too long, plus it helped settle nerves that were rioting in her stomach to some extent.

"Yeah, I'm still here Dean." She pulled open the door a little abruptly. The sudden action caused Dean to jump back from the door handle he'd been trying to force downwards.

"There weren't any voices." Dean pointed out as he stared up at Charlie. "I thought you left."

"Oh god no, I was just thinking, clearing my head; busy day and all. Don't worry though; I'm not leaving any time soon so I'm afraid you're stuck with me." Charlie didn't even bother trying to quash the smile that tugged at her lips when Dean shone a toothy grin.

Dean wrapped his arms around Charlie's leg calf and hugged her leg tightly. "I'm sorry about you're day." He whispered into the denim of her jeans.

"Um, thanks?" She offered, lightly brushing her hand over Dean's hair as a signal that his gestures was appreciated and that he could let go now. Honestly, she was a little taken aback by how differently Dean was acting compared to his adult self. "So, are you hungry or anything?" She asked, hoping to tempt Dean out of the embrace when he continued to cling to her leg.

Dean untangled his arms from her legs and stepped back, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke out the side of his mouth. "A bit."

"Okay, come on then." Charlie nodded toward the open door, earning another grin. As Charlie walked through the door, she felt a small hand slip into hers. She looked down to see Dean smiling up at her, almost jogging to keep up. She slowed her steps so Dean could walk at a normal pace rather than the run-hop he had been doing. She smiled back down at him, less enthusiastically and more reserved than Dean's sunny grin however. Satisfied at receiving a returned smile, Dean looked away to study the surrounding walls corridors instead.

"Is this your house?" He asked after a short, silent moment.

"Um, no. I'm just staying here." Dean nodded but didn't look at Charlie directly, he continued to study his surroundings, too mesmerised by the impressive architecture to look away for even a second.

"It's nice," Dean commented, eyes wide as they passed a painting. "And big."

Charlie laughed at the blunt simplicity; everything must've been big from Dean's perspective.

Charlie let go of Dean's hand when they reached the kitchen. She bent down and placed a hand on each of his shoulders, looking him directly in the eyes so there would be no miscommunication or obscurity in her instructions. "Just stand here a minute okay?" Dean nodded, a look of concentration painted on his face. "I'm just going to grab you some food."

Charlie glanced back at Dean once more as she walked to spot on the floor where the bag of supplies she'd bought was located. She pulled out a cereal box, "D'you like Lucky Charms?" She asked over her shoulder. She watched Dean nod enthusiastically, another smile appearing on his face at the mention of Lucky Charms. _Wow this kid smiles a lot, _Charlie thought as she placed the cereal box on the counter._ Well, that was easy enough._

It was a little harder finding a bowl and milk, she'd forgotten to buy any when she was at the store and she had no idea where the bowls were. Eventually she found the omitted items and prepared the simple meal, dumping two spoons in each bowl rather carelessly causing droplets of milk to splash over the bowls' rim and onto the counter. She nodded at the door to signal Dean to follow her, it didn't even take him a moment to mull over the instruction before he complied. Since both of Charlie's hands were full with the two bowls of cereal she was carrying, Dean was unable to grab her hand. He did stick to her leg as closely as possible though, Charlie had to be careful not to kick the kid in the face each time she took a step forward.

She placed the bowls down on the table and sat down at a chair. Dean scrambled up to sit on the chair opposite to Charlie. She pushed the smaller portion to Dean and watched as he shovelled a spoonful of cereal into his mouth the moment the bowl was at within reach of his short arms. "Thanks." he said through a mouthful of Lucky Charms, milk dribbling down his chin.

"Don't mention it." Charlie smiled, lifting a spoon to her mouth.

They ate in relative silence, the only sounds made were the scraping of spoons on the bottom of bowls and almost rhythmic chewing- Dean's toddler eating habits being considerably louder than Charlie's refined practices.

"Uh, lady, what's your name?" Dean asked as he shoved the empty bowl away from him, mouth still filled with cereal which made his words difficult to distinguish.

"Oh, um, it's Charlie. I forgot that you didn't know it." Charlie picked up Dean's bowl and piled it on top of hers.

"Isn' Charlie a boy's name though? A boy I know's called Charlie." His tone conveyed curiosity rather than refutation.

"It can be a girl's name too." Charlie informed him as she stood up from the table.

"Wow." Dean watched her in awe, seemingly amazed by the new information. "I'll have to tell him that." He said as if he'd just found out the meaning of life or something as equally important.

He climbed down off of his chair and scurried along behind Charlie, still seemingly fascinated with the name revelation.

Charlie absent-mindedly washed the bowls as she listened to Dean chatter about the other Charlie and a number of differing friends whose names Charlie struggled to keep track off. Dean discussed school, his family, random facts Charlie doubted were completely true and almost every single piece of information about his life. He spoke with exceeding pace and changed the topic of conversation so frequently that Charlie often found herself lost but was soon swept up again in his abounding tales. The way he spoke so enthusiastically about the minor details of his life like they were life changing events warmed Charlie's heart and amused her in an unforeseen way. Dean's eyes twinkled brilliantly with wonder when he spoke, something that Charlie had never previously seen.

"What are we going to do now?" Dean asked when Charlie had finished clearing up.

She looked down at Dean slightly confused and surprised at the suddenness of the question. "What d'you mean?"

"Well, I'm kinda bored." Dean shrugged his shoulders, leaning head to the side.

"Um, I'm not sure. I think there's more Star Trek." Dean scrunched his face quizzically. "Right, you don't know what Star Trek is yet. Give it a couple of years." Dean continued to look at her confused. "What do you want to do then?"

"Can we play a game?" Dean asked with sparkling eyes, his hands gripped in front of him.

Charlie checked her watch, pulling a face when she realised how late it had gotten. She didn't want to spoil Dean's excitement, his face bright with hopeful anticipation. Charlie's heart felt twisted at the idea of being the reason for that brilliant smile falling. "It's getting a little late and you'll probably have to go to bed soon..."

"Oh." Dean sighed, his hands dropping with his slumped shoulders.

"But I promise we'll play something tomorrow. We'll do whatever you want." Charlie promised before Dean full-out pouted.

"Okay." A small smile returned to Dean's face but it was no comparison to the grins he had shone earlier. They began walking along the corridor, dawdling in no particular direction.

"We can do something else though, for a little while." Charlie offered.

Dean nodded half-heartedly, eyes focusing on an invisible spot near his feet.

"Do you like books?" Charlie asked.

"Mommy reads me books. I like the ones with pictures, and dragons. They're awesome." Dean's genuine grin had returned- much to Charlie's relief- and was directed partly at her.

"Right?" She smiled as the thought entered her mind. "Dean I have the perfect book for you." She squeezed the tiny hand that had slipped back into hers as she headed to the room with her bag in it, relieved she carried her mother's copy of the hobbit everywhere that she went.

Dean sat on the bed, kicking his legs over the edge while watching Charlie search through her belongings. He carefully examined the pyjamas she placed beside him and held them in his lap, focusing again on Charlie's hunt for her book.

Charlie paused searching for moment when she realised Dean hadn't moved. "You should get changed." She said nodding at the clothes in his lap.

"Mommy always helps me with that." Dean said matter-of-factly, his kicking not relenting for a single moment.

"Of course she does." Charlie sighed predominantly to herself. "I'll help you in a minute then." She said, this time directing it at Dean and returned to her task of finding her book. Less than a minute later, she threw her hand up in triumph, displaying the retrieved item with an elated "Aha!"

Dean laughed at the action, falling back on the bed as if it was the funniest thing that happened in the entirety of his relatively short life. His sophomoric laugh was feather-light and travelled through the air the same way. Charlie laughed herself, falling victim to the contagious giggling.

Charlie placed the book on the side table so that her hands were free; helping Dean get changed wasn't nearly as awkward as she'd thought it would be, mainly because it didn't really seem like Dean. Apart from his warm heart and caring nature (two traits that he rarely chose to disclose), he seemed like a completely different person to his adult self.

Charlie sat back on the bed and Dean crawled across the bed to sit beside her, leaning against her side so he could see the pages of the book. Dean was small and warm against her side, her arm rested awkwardly around his tiny frame.

"What does it say?" Dean asked, pointing at the frayed cover and looking up at her enquiringly.

"The Hobbit." Charlie replied as she opened the book to the first page.

"Does it have dragons?" Dean asked before Charlie could begin reading. He continued to look at her with a questioning expression.

"Yes it has dragons. And wizards and dwarves and elves..." She began recalling all things in the book that could be remotely interesting for a child.

"Wow." Dean said staring perplexed at the map of Middle Earth that was on the first page.

"You ready?" Charlie checked before Dean could interrupt with any more questions. Dean nodded eagerly, nestling closer to Charlie. "Okay." Charlie cleared her throat and began reading the words that were practically seared into her mind. Dean was transfixed on each word that was spoken, silent as he listened carefully to the words Charlie recited. His laughs caused Charlie to smile, and his soft gasps only entertained Charlie further. He occasionally looked up at her with wide eyes as if needed confirmation that what she was saying was correct, sometimes it was to investigate what it was that made Charlie giggle. As she neared the end of the first chapter, she felt Dean's entire weight against her, his head resting heavily against her side. His eyes were closed and his breathing had slowed to a steady rate.

She closed the book as carefully and subtly as possible, making a note of the page they were on. She moved quietly and slowly, ensuring that she did not wake Dean. She placed the book back on the night stand, pausing when she heard Dean rouse beside her. Luckily he hadn't woken up, simply fussed as a result of her own movement. She switched off the lamp and carefully made her way out of the room, leaving the door open a crack in case anything happened during the night.

She walked through the silent bunker, sitting down at a table in the library and placing her iPad on the table. She browsed through web pages about curses and reversed-aging, absorbing all the available knowledge. However, she soon found herself reading through parenting blogs, finding ideas for age appropriate activities to keep Dean occupied. A lot of it seemed gibberish and it was mind-blowing that some parents actually considered these to be 'fun' ideas.

When she felt herself yawning she decided that it was time for sleep, she did have an eventful day ahead of her after all.

She wandered back toward the bedrooms, peering in the one which Dean slept in. The small crack of light allowed her to see Dean's tiny sleeping form, lying on his stomach, his arms strewed out beside him with his head leaning to the side, his mouth agape. She closed the door over again- still not completely- and found another room to sleep in, one that was close enough to Dean's that she could sleep easily and with the absence of worry.

She dropped her tablet on the bed and pulled her phone out of her jeans pocket. She text Sam a quick update that everything was fine, placing it face down on the night stand while the message was still sending. She sat on the bed, ready to sleep for possibly eternity but settling for a few hours. But before she could rest her head on the alluring pillow, she remembered one of the instructions that Sam had given her. She sighed whilst pushing herself off the temptingly soft bed and walked back out the room, peeking in each one before finding Kevin's. The kid was still awake, poured over the tablet and making notes on scraps of paper. She knocked on the door when he'd failed to notice her presence. He looked up at the noise, blinking a couple of times to focus on Charlie.

"Hey." She smiled, "I'm Charlie."

"Kevin." He nodded back, spinning his chair around to face the door. "Sam said you were here."

"Yeah, um I was just... Um, I thought I'd say hi and that I'm going to bed; it's pretty late."

Kevin checked his watch and then nodded in agreement; he seemed slightly surprised by the time his watch displayed. "Oh, and Dean has kind of lost his memory as well now." Kevin furrowed his brow in confusion. "He's actually three years old mentally, not just physically. Some other spell or god knows what." Charlie explained.

Kevin laughed dryly. "'Course that happened."

"Tell me about it." Charlie muttered. "I know you're working on the tablet so you probably won't see him; but, if you do and he asks who you are, just say you're a friend of mine or something." Kevin nodded and Charlie sighed in relief, at least one person wasn't too freaked out. "And nothing traumatic can happen to him, or he could be stuck as a kid, or just his mind is stuck like this, I'm not too sure. Either way, it won't be good." Charlie leaned on the door handle, recalling everything Sam and Idunn had told her.

"Right, do you need help? With, you know..."

Charlie shook her head to cease Kevin's offer. "No, you're busy, I couldn't ask that. I don't really need help anyway, well not yet, I think. I'm not sure yet. All I've done so far is feed him and he's asleep now so I think it's going alright." She shrugged, "It's more of an update, so you're in the loop."

"Thanks." Kevin smiled.

"Alright, see you later then. There's food in the kitchen, well lucky charms but still... I'll just go now. G'night." She smiled once more before leaving the room, heading to her own.

"Night." Kevin said as she left, turning back to his desk. _Just another half hour_, he told himself for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

Charlie collapsed face down on the bed the moment she was close enough to ensure that she wouldn't miss when she fell. She was asleep within a couple of seconds, not allocating any time to review the events that had occurred, simply relieved that she could finally escape completely to her unconscious mind.

* * *

AN: Sorry about the break. There was a bit of an unexpected family thing, but that's sorted so the story should be back on track. Thank you for all the reviews and follows/favourites. Your feedback means a lot and it's lovely to see your opinions.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The sky had darkened to a near black so that the headlights of cars and the infrequent streetlights were the only things preventing Sam and Idunn from driving in complete darkness. Sam's entire body ached, a tingling sensation continuously shot through every nerve in his body. Rolling his neck and shoulders were fruitless efforts of alleviating the dull pain that had been caused by the countless hours of sitting in the same position. The only movements he'd made in the past 10 hours had been the slight flick of his wrist or changing the pressure of his foot on the car's pedals. They had only taken one break to their travelling since the phone call with Charlie, a necessary and brief pit stop at a gas station to fill the impala's engine. They had also fitted in an unwisely delayed bathroom break while they filled the engine in shifts. Besides that, they had driven without any particular disturbances.

The roads had been fairly empty throughout the day and luckily they hadn't encountered any problems that would've prolonged their journey. The lack of activity on the road, as well as a few legally-dubious routes, meant that they arrived in Bemidji by 11 pm.

Unfortunately, Idunn stated that it was still too late to visit Berthe, her friend. Sam stifled a frustrated sigh when he heard the news. He'd hoped that he could have sped up events if he'd been able to fit the meeting in tonight rather than the next morning.

"You hungry?" Idunn asked during an especially long period of silence.

It took Sam a moment to process the question. His mind had been solely fixed on driving for an exceptionally long time, it took a jolt to return to resolving problems more complicated than left or right. "Yeah, I could go with some food."

"Thank god." Idunn sighed. "I'm starving."

Sam nodded, he'd had a pang in his stomach for the past couple hours but he'd repressed the feeling in favour of driving. Sam settled for the first diner that he found along the highway. Idunn shot out of the car the instant that it stopped, like a bullet from a gun aimed at the diner's doors. Sam wasn't as desperate to eat so he chose not to sprint into the diner.

Sam remained sitting in the car for a moment longer. He checked his phone in case Charlie had phoned or texted; nothing. His finger hovered over the call button, unsure whether to press it or not. He decided it wasn't necessary and shoved the phone back in his pocket, it was best if Charlie thought Sam wasn't completely freaking out about this. It might reassure her if she thought one of them kept a cool head.

When he did enter the diner, Idunn was already seated at a booth talking to an ageing waitress. The waitress wore a flowery dress and an apron, scribbling in a notepad she held in her hand. She was pretty and had a kind face that was framed by her greying hair. Her kind face was only illuminated further by the warm smile she flashed at him as she passed while returning to the kitchen. He walked to the table on the other side of the diner and sat down opposite Idunn. Why she chose this seat he had no idea. The entire diner was empty apart from them and a man dressed in a suit at the table closest to the exit. The worn fabric of the seat moulded to Sam's shape instantly. There was no support whatsoever and the seat felt too squishy to be comfortable, like the supporting springs had been worn away many years before.

"I already ordered for you." Idunn announced when he'd settled into the seat. "Sorry, I would've waited but you were taking too long and like I said, I'm starving."

"Okay." Sam wasn't surprised, at least Idunn had remembered to order him something. That's more than what Dean had done in the past when he was focussed on his hunger. Truthfully Sam didn't even feel that hungry, he rarely did nowadays. He only ate because he knew that he was supposed to, and Dean's forceful hand back at the bunker.

The waitress returned quickly with a pot of coffee and two glasses of water. She poured out a cup of coffee for each of them and handed Idunn a newspaper that she'd carried under her arm. "There you go. Your food will be out in a moment."

"Thanks." Idunn said, glancing over the front page.

"No problem. Anything else I can do for y'all?" She directed the question at Sam since he hadn't been there when Idunn had ordered.

"No, we're fine." Sam smiled.

Idunn raised her head from the paper, catching the waitress' attention before she left. "You haven't noticed anything strange happening over the past couple days have you?"

The waitress looked surprised at the sudden question for a moment before blinking and replying, "No, nothing strange. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, a friend of ours passed through here a couple of days ago. He, um, he said something was off. It's just, we're heading to a…" Idunn hesitated, obviously not skilled in the art of lying.

"We're going to a wedding," Sam picked up the tale. "Her sisters. Her parents would kill us if we're late for the rehearsal dinner."

Idunn nodded. "Don't want to be caught in traffic or freak storms."

The waitress laughed. "Oh, well congratulations for your sister, weddings are always fun aren't they?" She looked at Idunn, waiting until she nodded her agreement. "We're not expecting any storms, I haven't heard anything anyway but I'd check the paper for weather reports. The roads can get pretty nasty when it rains." She smiled. "Also, I'd head out early if I were you. The highway gets pretty busy late morning time."

"Will do." Idunn said cheerfully. "But absolutely nothing _strange_ going on?"

The waitress seemed a confused by Idunn's probing, not a usual topic in the diner. "No. Nothing strange, I don't think."

"Thanks again." Sam said, preventing Idunn from peaking anymore suspicion.

"My pleasure. Just shout if you need anything." The waitress smiled kindly to both individually before she left to tend to another table.

"Thanks for the save there; I'm not good at the whole lying thing." Idunn said as she opened the newspaper.

"It was nothing. You need to work on your investigating skills, you were a little blunt there." Sam took a sip of his coffee, wincing slightly at the burnt taste and the singing of his tongue.

"Hey I don't do this," she shook the newspaper, "all that much. Actually, I've never done it. So cut me some slack." Sam noticed the slightest smile hidden behind Idunn's annoyed expression when she noticed his own amused grin.

"Anything in there?" He asked nodding at the paper, placing the cup down so it could cool to temperature that wouldn't burn through his cheeks.

"No." Idunn shook her head as she flipped to the second page, skimming the text before moving on to the next one. She sighed closing the paper after finishing it in a couple of minutes. "Nothing."

"I'll check online later." Sam said, knowing that tonight would be another night filled with research and very little sleep. "What about the psychic thing? You sensed anything yet?"

"There's nothing major here, or specific. Just slight flickers of, well I'm not quite sure what exactly." Idunn shrugged and continued to read the newspaper. "Something's off though, I could feel it the moment we passed state lines."

Sam nodded, uncertain whether the disturbance Idunn detected was a good thing or not. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket; he pulled it out quickly and stared at the screen.

Idunn looked up when she noticed the movement. She stared at him questioningly, "Anything?"

"Just low battery." Sam muttered, setting his phone face down on the table.

"I'm sure it's fine. We would've heard something if it wasn't." Idunn reassured with a warm smile. Sam hoped that was the case, rather than something going that drastically wrong Charlie wasn't able to call. Sam pushed that thought from his mind; they were in the bunker, one of the safest places in America, definitely Kansas, nothing could get through that door. And even if something did, they had enough weapons and protection to fight them off.

Their food came a little while later. They ate in near silence, Sam glancing at his lifeless phone every other second and Idunn re-reading the newspaper more closely. Soon after that they had paid for their meal and were back in the impala searching for a motel. Sam found a quaint looking one a couple miles down the road from the diner and pulled into vacant a parking space.

"I'll go buy two rooms." Idunn said while exiting the car. "One night, right?" Sam nodded.

"You alright for cash?" Sam asked, reaching for his pocket to pull out his wallet.

"No, I'm good. Back in a minute." She shut the door and skipped off to the front desk. Sam grabbed his phone instead of his wallet, still no news from Charlie. He then picked up his laptop and phone charger and exited the car himself. He leaned against the door facing the entrance to the office, waiting for Idunn to return. She walked back and handed him a key, picking up her bag that Sam had pulled out of the back seat.

"I'm going to go hit the hay. I'll meet you at the car in the morning. I was thinking around 6, nice and early, and then head to Berthe's. I've called ahead so she'll be expecting us." Sam agreed, he'd probably be awake hours before then but he could see that Idunn needed the rest. Her hand had drifted to her stomach every so often during the day, her breathing had been strained at points, her eyes remaining closed when she blinked for longer than they generally should have. "You make sure you get some sleep too, Sam." She offered a tentative smile, ignoring Sam's empty nod and headed to her room.

Sam's room was practically the same as every other motel room Sam had stayed in, after a lifetime of moving from motel to motel it was rare to find a room that differed. This particular room had only the basics- if you could even call them that- a bed, bathroom and a table that seemed to be designed for one insanely small human being. Still, Sam squeezed into the tiny, uncomfortable chair and stayed there for hours, researching and reading local papers. The chair did nothing for his already sore back. Where the chair at the diner didn't have enough support, this one had way too much.

He searched the internet for any indications that Idunn's predictions of disaster were correct and if there were any signs of that in the surrounding area of Minneapolis. Like Idunn had said, there didn't seem to be any apocalyptic omens. No murders, missing people or bizarre weather. In fact there weren't any headlines that jumped out at all, like they'd just arrived in Pleasantville. All the features were on local events, a new library being opened by the mayor, the dwindling economy, the demolition of buildings that had been cancelled. He just hoped that Idunn would be able to sense some activity- or whatever it was- soon, otherwise there would be no chance of tracking Freya's location. Finally he shut his laptop off, he rationalised that he could find a better use of his time than trying to figure out whether a missing dog was in fact an omen.

Sam stood up from the chair and stretched his long limbs, hearing a satisfying pop in his strained shoulders. But even after stretching, his muscles still felt twisted and slightly stinging. He ran the water in the shower until it was steaming- which took an unbelievable amount of time. The hot water soothed his saw muscles, ridding them of the tight pain. Once he stepped out his body felt rejuvenated, as if his muscles had never ached.

He changed into sweats and sat down on the bed; he felt tired but was unable to fall asleep. He looked at the ancient alarm clock that displayed only flickering red 0's. He sighed, noting the quality of cheap motels and then grabbed his phone out of jacket pocket. He saw that it was nearly 2 am. He also saw that he had finally received a text from Charlie.

_Everything's fine for now. Hope all's good with you. Will call if anything changesX_

He released a breath of relief but he couldn't help going back to those two words: for now. Those were the key words that always cropped up in this life. Sam knew better than anybody how quickly situations changed and how often they did. The brothers' luck had never been something to envy.

He rubbed his temples, insisting that he and Idunn would prevent the Nordic gods from committing any evil deeds, that he would turn Dean back. He tried to brush off his doubts but soon realised that he was only lying to himself. It was easy reassuring Charlie or Idunn- even Dean- but easing his own worries was a little more difficult.

He closed the text and plugged his phone into the charger, resolving that he would reply in the morning- if he was able to think of a suitable way to reply. Deciding that it was the logical thing to do, Sam lay back on the bed and urged his eyes to stay closed. He must have dozed off soon since his mind went blank, no longer subjected to the constant feed of concerns that ran through it during his waking hours.

* * *

AN: Thanks for the feedback like usual it was really nice to see and helpful to writing. I've tried to add a little more angst in this chapter and adding more to future chapters. Hope you enjoyx


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